Commitment
by emimprov
Summary: The sequel to Devil's Advocate. Johnny's new life begins, and he's not sure what to make of it. What will change, and what will remain the same?
1. La Vida Nueva

Note: I must admit that I was not planning on writing a sequel to Devil's Advocate, but I was recently struck with inspiration and I had to go with it. With school returning all too soon and summer work piling up, I will try to update as frequently as I can…as long as I am not afflicted with writer's block. Figures I would be feeling creative now…haha. So thank you to all of those who commented favorably on Devil's Advocate – I hope you enjoy this story as well!

**Commitment**

**Chapter One: La Vida Nueva**

Johnny had, literally, just been to hell and back. Finding himself on his own front lawn again had been the last thing he had been expecting only a few hours earlier when he was facing off against the creature that had controlled his entire existence up until that point. After defeating the wall monster with Tess, Devi, and Squee, Satan had granted Johnny freedom from his gruesome task and – what was more – a clean slate. A new life. No one from his "past" would remember him, but then again, why should he want them to remember him as he was?

_A bloodthirsty monster…_ thought Johnny sadly to himself, staring at his "new" home. _That's what I was…_

He shuddered to think about how many people had died within those walls, and at his hands…

He clenched his fists then, willing himself to push those awful memories out of his head. Speaking aloud, he attempted to reassure himself. "I'm not going to become _that _again…I will not give in to hatred…no. Not anymore."

It was refreshing to hear only HIS voice in his head, freed from any discourse with the ranting of the Doughboys. He had to admit, though, Nailbunny had been an alright companion. They were all gone now, however. He was sure of that. No voices meant no manipulation, and that in turn meant he was free to do whatever he wanted without any sort of being guiding him along. He needed to see Devi and Tess, that was for sure. He _wanted_ to see them.

The first thing to do, however, would be to inspect his home.

Johnny paced up the walkway that led to his front door, unsure of what he expected to find inside. As he walked, he let his mind run free. When HAD he moved there, and why? He was sure that his lack of any memories during that time in his life had to do with the machinations of God and Satan in setting him up to be the waste lock they had cherished so much. Johnny scoffed at the thought. What a way to treat such an essential individual. At least, Satan had made it _seem_ like Johnny's "role" was important. He was needed to rid the world of negative vibes, ill will…this was the esoteric shit that Satan had spewed.

"And here I go getting angry again," Johnny muttered, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline. There was no person to hack into this time, though, no blood to clean up afterward…he was done with that way of life. If only to spite Satan and God…if only to show that he could live like everyone else, and not revert back to the lifestyle that they had crafted specifically for him…

"Fuck those two," Johnny said nonchalantly, reaching the door and grasping the doorknob. It felt the same, at least. "I've got a life to live." The door creaked open at the slightest push.

Johnny peered inside. Everything was as it had been when he and Tess had ascended from his basement. The rabbit-ear antennae still graced his small TV, three cups of Cherry Fizz-Wizz still sat neglected on his kitchen counter. The only difference was that there were no signs of death. None at all.

This was very noticeable to Johnny.

Before the wall monster had been defeated, evidence of Johnny's lifestyle was all too prevalent in every room of the house. Blood caked the walls in some rooms, and there were streaks of it all throughout, either in trails on the floor or in spatterings on windowpanes or ceiling fans. So much blood that Johnny, even in his meticulous cleanliness (for a homicidal maniac), had neglected to wipe up.

Shocked, Johnny ran to the next floor down, on the landing where he kept his most vicious instruments of torture. Not only was there not a speck of blood, but his torture devices had disappeared as well. The bare room made him do a double take, as he was sure that his brass knuckles must still be lying in a corner somewhere, somehow forgotten by the impeccable Satan. But of course, the entire room was clean of blood or any incriminating body parts or tools.

Floor after floor was the same. No blood, no bodies, no weapons. Johnny could scarcely believe it, mumbling in amazement as he inspected every corner and every crack in the floorboards. He picked at a rusted nail that had protruded from one of these floorboards in disdain before moving on. "You'd think Satan could have renovated a little bit, too," he quipped to himself, reaching the staircase that he dreaded to descend.

He was one floor from the room that had housed the wall monster for so many years.

Walking down the stairs proved to be more difficult than he had anticipated – Johnny remembered the many times he had dragged screaming, flailing victims down these steps, propping them up against the wall and finishing them off right there, making sure that the creature was nourished by only the freshest blood. All for that ridiculous being…that monster that he had bested in the end. Johnny allowed a smirk to twist the corners of his mouth. He had reached the landing and had flicked the light switch on, the bare bulb illuminating the once crimson wall.

It was completely blank, just as he had expected. The wall almost gleamed in the light – it was such a contrast to what it had been only hours…days?...beforehand. Johnny walked quickly up to the wall, propelled by an urgency as yet unknown to him. Tentatively he reached his hand out, palm up, and placed it on the wall's cool surface, almost as if to make sure it were real. He held this position for a good minute, taking in the new room, the new smell of it all, untainted by blood.

Finally he drew his hand back and saw that no blood was left on his fingers. Absurdly, he had deluded himself into thinking that the blood was still there, only tinted a different color. He was so used to seeing this room with its crimson wall that he could not imagine it any other way. Now that this room was normal, he knew that his situation was truly different. Relief flooded through him as he realized that his former life, as he had known it, was over. This was not the initial relief that had hit him when he had emerged from Hell – this was a crashing tidal wave of relief, and Johnny let himself be overcome. Laughter – genuine laughter – bubbled out of him for what seemed like the first time in ages, and he did nothing to quell it. He laughed until he was reduced to tears, crouching on the floor in front of the wall.

Once the laughter had subsided, he leaned his head back against the once bloody wall, taking some time to recompose himself. He would need to leave eventually, he knew. He could not live here and expect to remain sane…not with the memories that this place triggered. An unwelcome surge of anger accompanied this thought.

_Why couldn't Satan have wiped MY memory, too?_ Johnny wondered. _I was quite happy until that little problem came to mind. And all of those people I killed…I wonder if they're still…_

Johnny would not let himself complete his line of thinking. What was done was done. Those people…they had deserved it. He was sure they were still gone, because what would have been the point of his being a waste lock otherwise? They were dead, and the bad juju they carried had died with them. The only thing that had truly changed was that he had been allowed to come back due to his remorse, and he was no longer a waste lock. Some other poor soul now had that burden to bear. No, the only thing that had changed was that Johnny was free…

A new feeling overcame Johnny, this one being more unwelcome and strange than all the rest. He was afraid. Yes, circumstances had changed since he had returned. He no longer _needed _to kill.

To say that he no longer _could_ kill was a different story altogether.

He did not think he could handle it. His first instinct, upon coming across some everyday asshole in the street, would be to kill him in broad daylight. As his "old" self, he wouldn't be caught. Now, though, he knew – he would be seen. He would be caught, and he would be taken to jail. This was a lot to take in.

Johnny sighed and stood up. As he stood, he noticed a speck on the wall. Fear gripped him. Jumping back, he soon realized that his agitation was unwarranted. It was simply Mr. Samsa the cockroach, navigating the wall with the precision of any hardy insect. He scuttled along, unperturbed by Johnny's presence.

"Mr. Samsa…" Johnny whispered. "You're still alive. Of course…you never die. Even when I killed you before…" He trailed off. "However, I will not be the one to kill you this time."

Johnny backed away and began climbing the stairs with the intent of stepping out of the house for a while, leaving the bug to its devices. This was harder than he had imagined, and he felt ashamed, even angry with himself. Was _this_ how easy it had been to kill? He was literally finding it difficult to leave Mr. Samsa alone, and Mr. Samsa was, to put it plainly, only an insect. His mind seemed clouded, jumbled, filled with thoughts that may have been all too commonplace during his old life. New thoughts clashed with these older ones, begging him to think clearly, to not kill so indiscriminately…and to not kill at all.

_What a strange concept_, he thought to himself, finally ascending the last set of stairs to the first landing. _This new life will be hard._ He crossed the threshold of his house, finally ready to face the day with a new sense of conviction. He was changed, he hoped.

One thing was for sure, however; with all that had changed, the murderous gleam from a different life had yet to leave Johnny's eyes.


	2. Neighbors

Chapter Two: Neighbors

**Chapter Two: Neighbors**

Johnny was not used to taking walks without some sort of weapon by his side, be it a katana, butcher knife, or small dagger. He felt strangely naked as he paced to the sidewalk, turning one last time to take in the sight of his new and much cleaner home. He sighed. Hopefully he wouldn't relapse back into dragging victims through that door again; he would definitely need to cultivate a sense of self-preservation, as he was so used to getting away with things without anyone finding out. He had never been surer that this was not the case any longer, even without God or Satan making this new "rule" explicit to him. He was normal now. And goddamn it, he was going to prove to them that he could handle it.

Before moving on, he shifted his glance to the houses next door to his. The closest neighbor on the right was about two blocks down, but his neighbor on the left was only a few hundred feet away. This was the home of Squee, the young boy who had been one of Johnny's only companions…an unwilling companion, to be sure, but he was one of the few people who did not give Johnny the urge to kill on sight. Nny smiled, wondering what Squee was up to at that moment.

"He's probably still quivering in his bed with that stupid bear clutched to his chest," Johnny muttered to himself under his breath, amused. As far as he could tell, the house looked the same – a little run down, but not nearly as bad as his old home had been. He decided that now was a good a time as ever to visit his favorite little neighbor boy, and he trotted down the front path, arriving quickly on the doorstep. At least he had lost nothing of his former speed.

Johnny checked himself to make sure that he had not unconsciously slipped a knife into his side pocket, and then rang the doorbell purposely. The sound was unfamiliar and grating, something Johnny was not prepared for. It seemed to reverberate through the house, but after a few seconds, Johnny could hear no footsteps approaching the door, no voices yelling to assure the person standing out front that they were coming. This was bizarre, even for Squee's family; as neglectful as Squee's parents were, they were usually somewhat courteous to Johnny the few times they had seen him, probably because he had frightened them. Ironically, they had always been safe from Nny, protected by Squee's need for them. Johnny pondered how they were likely to behave now.

_I wouldn't mind teaching them a lesson if they're still ignoring Squeegee_, thought Johnny gleefully, more in spite than with any real intention of harming them.

If they came to answer the damn door, anyway.

Tapping his foot irritably, Johnny pressed the buzzer again, the same freakish noise accompanying his action. This time, Johnny heard thumping footsteps almost immediately. It sounded as if whoever was running to the door was coming from a basement, or from somewhere several floors below. The sound of footsteps slowed and clumped over hardwood floors before stopping completely, and the door swung open just a bit, the person behind it clutching the door with gnarled fingers.

Johnny knew his new life would be strange, but nothing could have prepared him for what stood in Squee's doorway. It was no one Johnny had ever seen before, but he bore the features of the Casil family – short spiky hair swept down over a broad forehead and large eyes. Nny could not see the rest of his body as it was obscured by the door, but the man was rather young and looked to be quite skinny. The stranger stared at Johnny, blinked slowly, and then spoke.

"Yes?"

"Is Squee home?" Johnny asked, uneasy. The voice was as strange as the sound of the doorbell had been. He had no idea if this person was a relation of Squee's – an older brother or cousin, perhaps? He certainly could have believed never having seen him before with the amount of neglect running rampant in Squee's family.

The man blinked again, narrowing his eyes. "No one named Squee lives here."

Johnny shifted. "Todd, then? Is there a Todd Casil here? See, I used to be his next door neighbor…I-I went away for a while, but I just wanted to see…if he's…"

The other man's eyes had widened in shock at the mention of the name "Todd," but had quickly reverted to their normal, albeit uncharacteristically wide size. He cleared his throat meaningfully. "Listen, are you doing a survey or something? Because I'm not interested…and neither is Todd."

"B-but wait! Then you know Todd?" Johnny asked.

"A long time ago, I did," the man replied through gritted teeth. "But not anymore."

The man leaned forward this time, his entire body emerging from behind the door. Johnny could now take in his full appearance, and he was rooted to the ground by what he saw. The stranger wore a blue t-shirt with a yellow smiley face on the front, clashing harshly with his cold personality. And this was not just any t-shirt, either – Johnny had seen Squee wear this shirt, albeit in a much smaller size. This was not what had shocked him the most, however – what had shocked him was what he saw clutched in the man's other hand.

It was Shmee, Squee's dilapidated old teddy bear. He was looking much worse for the wear than he had back then, but Johnny would have recognized those button eyes anywhere. The man who stood in front of him now was, without a doubt, his old neighbor aged about fifteen years. Nny did the math quickly in his head – that would make Squee about his age, and that was not the only similarity between them…

Johnny had been in exactly the same position as Squee was in at that exact moment, leaning nonchalantly out of his door in another life, talking with a man who had been conducting a survey around the neighborhood. Johnny remembered how that conversation had ended, and it hit him like a thunderbolt. Everything was too similar, yet too different at the same time. But it all made sense, at least to Johnny's fragmented mind. The confusing bits of this meeting were coming together. Johnny knew why it had taken him so long to answer the door, why his voice sounded so strange and yet so familiar, why they were approximately the same age, why bags drooped beneath Squee's eyes.

He and Squee had switched places.

Squee had been talking to him, but the thoughts racing through his head has made him oblivious to all else.

"Did you HEAR me?" Squee suddenly shouted. "I said get off of my doorstep, or I can't promise what will happen to you. Todd doesn't live here anymore."

Johnny stepped gingerly off of the doorstep and nodded curtly. "Of course."

Squee glared murderously at him, then slammed the door shut, stalking back into what were undoubtedly the catacombs of his house. As soon as he had, Johnny ran flat-out down the walkway, for the first time truly fearful for his own life. If anyone understood what Squee was capable of, it was Johnny. He knew what HE had been capable of. And now, seeing the situation unclouded by the haze of his homicidal rage, he knew how his victims had felt in their final seconds, their final moments. Johnny pelted for an open clearing behind a lot across the street, throwing himself to the ground.

This time he cried tears of frustration and anger, mingled with a strange sadness for Squee. He pressed his palms to his eyes, furious with this outburst of emotion. He almost wished God or Satan or whichever entity was really running this whole clusterfuck would come down and order Johnny to return to his old life, order him to take up his knives and kill again…all to keep Squee, the beacon of innocence and good in his old life, from having to do this now.

"Shit!" Johnny shouted, pounding the earth. A shower of dirt rained back down on him, and he didn't bother to rub it from his hair. "Fuck…not Squee…why, of all FUCKING people to be chosen for that 'job?' Why Squee?"

"Good, Johnny," smirked a velvety voice in his mind. This was the voice of Satan, who Johnny had just met with hours beforehand. "I knew we were right in freeing you from that duty. You have a great amount of remorse in you…for what you did before, and for what is happening to Squee now. It's not really your fault, though."

"Like fuck it isn't!" Johnny was too angry with Squee's situation to be further perturbed that Satan could infiltrate his thoughts like the Doughboys were wont to do. "Yeah, I dealt with that hell of a life, but at least I was a piece of shit to begin with. I was meant for it. Squee…he was just an innocent little kid. Not a bad thing about him, except for that fucking teddy bear."

Satan laughed. "You don't know that. Perhaps Squee was headed down that path anyway. You saw his family. And we would have needed to pick someone else anyway, when you died. The Doughboys were particularly intent on you killing yourself. You didn't…but you would have died given enough time, regardless. One of those little setbacks to being mortal, you see."

"But…WHY Squee? Right fucking next door to me," Johnny mumbled, incoherent. "Surely there are worse people in this world to take up my old mantel, but no, you'd have to craft it so I'd have to…deal with it every day…see him like that…"

"It is a test of sorts." Satan's silky reply was so quiet that Johnny could barely hear it, even in his own mind.

"What do you mean, 'test?' What…" Johnny scoffed back at the voice in his head, but of course Satan had dropped their conversation there.

Johnny slammed the earth with his fist again. It was strange to be on the "other" side of his old life. He was used to being inadvertently pulled around by mysterious entities, but he thought for sure he would be freed from that sort of manipulation and control in this "new" life.

He was starting to realize, however, that it was nearly as ugly as his old one.

Then he got up, dusted himself off, and stalked towards the downtown area, determined to get to the bottom of Squee's situation. He didn't know how, but Satan was a tricky one, and he had mentioned a test. He would own that test at all costs. Even if it meant becoming what he loathed to be…himself.

Because hell if he could swallow "Squee the homicidal maniac."


	3. New Friend

**Note: I can't remember exactly the name of the bookstore where Devi worked…Dragon Books or Dragon Comics or something. I don't feel like digging out my Director's Cut to make sure, so for the sake of this story, she works at Dragon Books. Okay? Okay. On with the show.**

**Chapter Three: "New" Friend**

What time was it? Johnny had no idea; he had forgotten his watch somewhere in his house. He chuckled to think that it was one of the few items there that was not an instrument of torture. He supposed his CD player wasn't either, though that did remind him of that particular incident in the café when he had murdered all of those assholes while listening to Ode to Joy…

A small smile almost tugged Johnny's lips upward as he walked by the café in question, but he clenched his teeth. No. They hadn't all been assholes, and he knew it. He couldn't think for too long about those random fits of rage lest he do _that_ again.

_No...I can't afford to fail this 'test,'_ Johnny thought with some disdain as he walked. _I'm sure 'killing people' has GOT to be high on the list of things I shouldn't do._

He was now about two blocks from the bookstore where Devi worked. A large mechanical clock on the wall of the building showed 4:40. Suddenly his throat was dry and his palms were clammy. He would need to hurry before he lost his nerve.

_To do WHAT?_ a tiny part of his brain nagged. _Forge a relationship with a girl you loved but who now has no idea that you exist?_

Johnny stopped, reminding himself that Devi ALSO had no memory of the whole "immortalizing the moment" fiasco. That had to help him out somehow. But the idea of talking to her as soon as he walked through those doors was beginning to frighten him more than would a confrontation with Squee.

He straightened up and walked forward, opening the double doors and heading straight for the Psychology section. Seeing as it was straight ahead, it wouldn't be too hard to look like he knew where he was going.

"Hello, welcome to Dragon Books!" a cheerful voice chimed from behind the counter.

Johnny's head whipped to the right and immediately took in Devi sitting cross-legged on a stool, doodling on a note pad. Her purple and pink streaked hair was tied back in pigtails. She smiled brightly at him, just as pretty as Johnny had remembered.

"Eh…hi," Johnny muttered, forcing himself to walk forward. He could still feel her eyes on him, and he stopped once more when she spoke up again.

"Looking for anything in particular?"

"I…I'm just browsing, thank you," he mumbled quietly, retreating to the middle of the Psychology and Social Sciences sections. Devi looked curiously after him, but shrugged and went back to her drawing. He slumped against one of the shelves, rubbing his temples absentmindedly. This would be harder than he had imagined.

Why had his homicidal self possessed so much more…charm? True, he hadn't gone on a lot of dates back then, but he had chatted with Devi fairly easily. He tried to remember how those conversations had gone, how they had started. He had been flipping through one of the sociology books and she had come up to him, asking if he needed help with anything. He had shaken his head no, but she had persisted when she realized that he was holding one of her favorites. They had jumped so quickly into a discussion from there that it was almost dizzying. At the time, Johnny had never met anyone so decent and amiable…and he was instantly attracted to her.

"She seems about the same," Johnny muttered to himself, picking up a psychology book at random. "No need to rush into things…just let them happen naturally…"

"Good, Johnny," whispered Satan's voice in his mind.

"Ah!" he gasped suddenly, dropping the book to the floor. It thumped off of his foot with a dull thud, landing not far from the end of the aisle. Devi leapt off of her seat, rushing over to the Psychology section. She bent down to pick up the book, dusting it off and examining Nny's face.

Johnny smiled awkwardly. Satan HAD to stop doing that so often.

"Are you alright, sir?"

"Eh…I'm…I'm fine," Johnny stuttered. "And please, it's Johnny. Or Nny, whichever you prefer…?" He trailed off, hoping for her to offer her name. Not like he needed a reminder.

Devi obliged. "It's Devi." She smiled playfully back at him. "Have I seen you around before?"

Johnny started. "I…don't think so?" He shook his head. How COULD she have seen him before? Satan had wiped her memory, right?

She tilted her head. "Maybe you have one of those faces. Or maybe I read too much supernatural stuff and it's messing with me. Who knows." She chuckled quietly.

Johnny chuckled back, mostly out of nervousness and at a loss for words. What was WRONG with him? He had never been this easily flustered before. He wasn't expecting things to go so surprisingly well, either.

She put the book back on the shelf, still smiling at him. "Well, whatever the case…we are closing soon, so if you've got a book you want to buy…"

"Closing soon? It's only ten of five."

"It's Sunday, in case you forgot," she said. "They let us poor employees off a little earlier. I wouldn't normally be here today, but I need the extra cash."

Oh right. It was Sunday. Johnny had really lost track of time since he'd visited Hell not too long ago.

Devi started to walk back to the counter, and Johnny grabbed the same book without even glancing at the cover. "I'd like to buy this if you don't mind, Devi."

She rang him up, still regarding him with a bemused smile on her face. "Of course not…Johnny. It's my job."

"I need a job," he said wistfully, waiting as she took his cash and counted out his change. "I really need something to keep me occupied." _And to keep my mind off of murdering any random asshole on the street_, he thought to himself.

"You could try that café down the street. I hear they're hiring."

Johnny grimaced at the memory. "No thanks. The café scene isn't really my thing."

Devi shrugged. "Something else, then. Retail?"

Johnny thought for a few seconds about how hard it would be for him to contain his rage if he was reduced to folding clothes or helping people pick out wardrobes for their child. Or worse: working during prom season.

He shuddered. "Not very tempting."

Devi laughed again, handing him his bag. "Just a thought. I'd probably despise it too. Good luck with the job hunt all the same…will I be seeing you around?"

Johnny flashed what he hoped was a winning smile. "Most definitely."

She got up, walking behind him as he headed out the door. "Here, I'll follow you out. I need to lock up."

The silly smile was still plastered on Johnny's face as the two left Dragon Books. He felt almost as happy as he had on their "date" many months before, except of course Devi now had no memory of that horrifying moment when the Doughboys had completely wrecked Johnny's chances with her. They weren't in the picture anymore, though…he would just come to the store as often as he could, strike up friendly conversation with her, and ask her out as soon as he felt up to it. He could see it now…he could handle this. He was sure of it.

And then he would try to do something about Squee. Anything for Squee. Even if it meant facing him again. He would try to save him…even if he didn't know what that meant.

"_Excelente_, Nny," Satan said. "Though I must warn you…"

Of course, there was still Satan. Johnny wondered if he would ever have a clear head, free of voices. Satan's voice was like velvet, though, different from the rest. It was almost soothing.

"Could you give me a moment here?" Johnny muttered out of the corner of his mouth. "I'm trying to immortalize the moment." He smiled ruefully at the black joke.

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"Well, I'm off, Johnny," Devi said, tucking her keys back into her purse. "See you soon, I hope!" She was off then, trotting towards her car in the parking lot. But she wasn't alone. Someone was already standing at her car, arms wide open to hug her.

This man was broad-shouldered and rather handsome, with brown hair sweeping over his left eye. He was dressed similarly to Devi – black shirt, black pants, black boots. He bent down to kiss her, clutching her tightly in his arms.

"Ah, Devi. What are we doing tonight, hon?"

"Hey, Donny. Nice to see you too." She climbed into the car, and he climbed in after her…

Johnny was frozen to the spot. His mouth was dry. He blinked once, twice.

How much HAD changed since Satan had wiped everyone's memories? Had only Squee aged? Had Devi lived a completely different life? Was she a completely different person? Same name, same appearance, but more time to meet someone else…there was no time for Johnny to react as she started the car.

Now he knew what Satan had meant. Had Johnny been closer to them, he might not have been able to contain himself. He would have gone ballistic. He would have taken anything, any object near him, and killed Devi's boyfriend in just a few short seconds. He would have brained him with the book he had just purchased from Devi…

He absent-mindedly took the book from the bag and read the cover for the first time. _The Mind of a Psychopath._ Typical.

Johnny turned, dumping the book into a nearby trashcan with as much violence as he could muster. Then he ripped the bag apart and stuffed it into the trashcan for good measure.

He realized how much Satan had lied to him. Or how much information he had been keeping from him. It was all the same. There was no way Johnny could be happy now.

Satan was silent. Johnny stalked off, hands in his pockets, seething with rage. He wasn't headed anywhere in particular. If he saw someone else he knew…

Oh, the next person to bump into him on the street would not be lucky.


End file.
